The Raven
by TrueLion
Summary: Squall is gone, and Zell, his love, is left to deal with his death. A midnight visitor arrives in the bleakest, most desperate hour, but is he friend or foe?MM implications, but nothing lemony. Just an angsty story based upon Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven.


Zell sat inside the warm cottage. *Their* warm cottage outside of Winhill and out of sight of anything. He had long been alone, and the blizzard outside only caused him more pain, as he remembered Shiva's touch mingling in his love's hands. It hurt him, stabbing at his very heart when he thought of it. At times like these, he sat in the old velvet chair Squall had kept next to the fire, reading. Now he sat there with his eyes fixed in the flames that danced as if Summoning, his eyelids growing heavy.  
  
There was a hard wooden floor, and its shine reflected the fire. A chandelier hung in the ceiling, but it wasn't on right now. It always had a light, rosy shine, and never was really bright. There was a shelf of books to the right, full of threadbare, worn books. A large, soft bed sat at the back of the one room house, where they both used to sleep.  
  
A loud thud at the door startled him. He looked up sharply. It was a snowy, magical night, and one that had shaken him a bit. The storm was raging, and the radio had advised him to stay inside, lest he become lost in a snowdrift, or lost because of the fact that he could not see within five feet. He would never admit it, but he was slightly frightened. The thudding was light but incessant. Soon it stopped. He looked down to where his book lay on the floor from the shock.  
  
~Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,  
  
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-  
  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
  
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door-  
  
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-  
  
Only this and nothing more."~  
  
He reached down and brought the dark blue book back into his lap. The blizzard reminded him of a December, as now, long ago. Christmas had come, and they exchanged gifts. A sad smile came to his lips as he remembered the look in Squall's eyes as he had opened the gift Zell had given him, the present Zell had worked on for so long finally showing how worth it the hours of work had been. Squall had died wearing that ring. Zell sighed as he remembered it would never happen again- they would never exchange gifts, share their love. The flames seemed no longer merry and cast shadows around the room. He looked out the window. The sun always comes after a particularly long night. He'll feel better tomorrow. He threw the book back onto the floor. It wasn't taking his mind off of things at all.  
  
~Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;  
  
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.  
  
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow  
  
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-  
  
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-  
  
Nameless *here* for evermore.~  
  
Strange sounds were filling the room now. The thudding had opened his ears, as a slight fright tends to do. His heart was racing and he practiced methods learned as a SeeD in calming them. The thud came once more- Zell thought it a knock- and he leapt to his feet. The hair on his arms stood on end, as if magic were at the door. Was it a monster? Certainly no one visited him while he was here..  
  
~And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain  
  
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic horrors never felt before;  
  
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating  
  
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-  
  
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;  
  
This it is and nothing more."~  
  
Maybe, he thought, it was just someone caught in the storm. Of course it is! He sighed in relief. His heart pounded as doubt nagged in the back of his mind. "It's no normal visitor," a voice in the back of his mind told him. He walked to the door, building his courage, putting one hand on the door to brace it from the horrifying wind and the other on the doorknob. Resolution flooded him- death would almost be welcome. "Hey! Anyone there?!" He called. "Sorry, I thought it was just a. the wind or somethin'!" After that was said, he opened the door. There was only the snow to greet him.  
  
~Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,  
  
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;  
  
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,  
  
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,  
  
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door-  
  
Darkness there and nothing more.~  
  
"Oh. kay," Zell said, looking around into the wind. Someone must have been there earlier. He looked long into the darkness, which was only slightly less dark for the snow. He saw no one, heard no one, and began to become nervous. He stood until his feet became blue and his hair was slightly etched with snow. Slowly his mind began to play games with him. He wondered, then hoped that it was Squall. Dead, but still himself in death. The silence was deafening. Dare he take the chance?  
  
"Squall?" He whispered meekly. A few moments of silence and back came the echo- "Squall!" It was his own voice, but screaming, and altered slightly. He shut the door quickly, fearing now that his worst hopes had been true. Nothing else had happened, only he had startled the silence, and it fell just as oppressive as ever it had before.  
  
~Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,  
  
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;  
  
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,  
  
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"  
  
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"  
  
Merely this and nothing more.~  
  
/IHe heard a small screeching noise, then a loud thud, wheeling about to see a tall blonde heap of snow standing next to the window, and now shutting it. Seifer sat down. Someone had come for a visit; he was there to talk to Zell, always miserable during the winter months. His arrogant smirk was not in place, now was not the time. Without it the Knight looked more a King or Prince from all their favorite children's books of lore. He didn't bother to say hello, or announce himself, he simply walked to the door and locked it, (Zell had already sat down before his legs gave out under him). He moved nearby, taking Zell's favorite chair himself in front of the fire and made no motion to do anything else.  
  
~Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,  
  
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.  
  
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;  
  
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-  
  
'Tis the wind and nothing more!"  
  
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter  
  
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;  
  
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;  
  
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-  
  
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-  
  
Perched and sat and nothing more.~  
  
Seeing Seifer made Zell smile, though he was depressed, only because Seifer seemed so stiff himself. Zell looked him over, reached over and dusted snow from him, noting that even though he was in a *state* he still looked proud. He wondered if Seifer had another name when he was a demon, and then thought it would be something that reflected his innocence. "Never," Seifer whispered, breaking the silence.  
  
~Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,  
  
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,  
  
"Thought thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,  
  
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore-  
  
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"  
  
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."  
  
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,  
  
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;  
  
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being  
  
Even yet was blessed with seeing bird or beast above his chamber door-  
  
Bird or beast upon the sculpture bust above his chamber door,  
  
With such a name as "Nevermore."~  
  
  
  
Zell looked over at him. He said that without prompt, and didn't seem as though he would elaborate. I don't know, he thought, what that was all about, but I'm not going to ask. Zell was glad of the company, and he thought the room was more comfortable, but he couldn't help thinking Seifer would be gone as soon as he could leave. No one would want to sit with the boy who had lost all interest.  
  
~But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only  
  
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.  
  
Nothing farther then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-  
  
Till I scarcely more than uttered "Other friends have flown before-  
  
On the morrow *he* will leave me as my Hopes have flown before."  
  
Then the bird said "Nevermore."~  
  
"I'm sorry," Seifer said, looking up. "I just was thinking." Zell asked him what he had been thinking of and Seifer sighed. "Of who will never again walk through that door." Zell looked down, the words were a stab through his heart. Hyperion would have done less damage. And it's true; Squall wouldn't walk anywhere ever again. Still Zell smiled at Seifer. It was a sad smile. Zell was now wondering what in the world was the taller blonde doing here.  
  
~Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,  
  
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store  
  
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster  
  
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-  
  
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore  
  
Of Never- nevermore."  
  
  
  
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,  
  
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door.  
  
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking  
  
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-  
  
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly gaunt and ominous bird of yore  
  
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."~  
  
Zell stared at Seifer, curiosity now burning into him. Hardly anyone bothered him when ice was pounding at his door. He leaned back again into the velvet chair, now resting, but his thought traveled away from Seifer to how Squall had once sat like that before. He thought of it and sighed, wishing for a knife, covering the slashed up skin of his wrist- he'd exposed it last night. This was the month that was always hardest, and when December got its darkest, Zell would take his blade to wrist while he sat on the floor. But tonight he couldn't do this, for his old friend was there. Squall forbid suicide to him, after all. Not cutting.  
  
~This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing  
  
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;  
  
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining  
  
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,  
  
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,  
  
*She* shall press, ah, nevermore!~  
  
Zell felt himself begin to tremble, and the sweet smell of blood he thought began to fill the air. While he wished he were alone he thought of another scent. The smell of his lover as the boy lay on the floor that December night so long ago. Then suddenly he longed to forget, forget the pain inside of him that once had been the home of Squall, but where he'd come no more. He was too lonely too remember, each remembrance of that December cost him quite a bit of blood.  
  
~Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer  
  
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.  
  
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee  
  
Respite- respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;  
  
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lendore!"  
  
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."~  
  
Then he saw a strange light flicker about the blonde that sat in his chair, and the air about him changed, and shimmering causing Zell eyes to water. Seifer's eyes were a little different, a ghost he seemed, until he stood, and the blonde's short hair flickered to a curious shade of gold. No one had carried Shiva since the brunette had gone, and Zell saw now both Shiva and Seifer as transparent picture lay atop each other. He leapt to his feet. Shiva had been with Squall when he died!  
  
"Shiva?" She nodded. "Shiva. do you know? Is Squall. where did he go when he died?" Shiva heaved a sigh of mist the melted casting raindrops on the hard wood floor. "Can you tell me where he went?"  
  
"Never," Shiva said, her voice as soft as snow, but words driving as the wind.  
  
~"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!-  
  
Whether Tempter sent or tempest tossed thee here ashore,  
  
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-  
  
On the home by Horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-  
  
Is there- *is* there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"  
  
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore." ~  
  
Zell leapt to his feet, angry. She wouldn't tell him! All the anger he had repressed, all the rage at Squall's early passing, all infused him now and he demanded he learn what had happened! Why had she come!!!?  
  
"To find solace," she said. Well he would not have it! He began to feel the anger rage within him as if it were boiling lava in his soul. He slapped Shiva, something he never would have done under his right mind, immediately.  
  
"Shiva! You will tell me or leave! Long I've waited and I've wondered- Lord it hurts!- if Squall is happy! Is he happy or is he gone, let me know or get going! You will either help or harm me, and your sitting there is bugging, so get our right now before I get my gloves on and hurt you more!" She shook her head and stayed seated there not blinking, looking with her sorrowful eyes still upon the flame.  
  
~"Be that word or sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting-  
  
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!  
  
Leave no black plume as a token of the lie thy soul hath spoken!  
  
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!  
  
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!  
  
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."~  
  
  
  
Zell fell to his knees anger spent and dropped with fists pounding on the floor. He cried, and screaming out his misery tears fell as years of sadness came to call. He had refused to cry before, and now he held it back no more.  
  
"Let me die!" He cried, his fists once more pounding, "better people than me die- let me be alone no more!" All his cried did nothing but disturb the dust that was sitting high above him in the rafters.  
  
~And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, *still* is sitting  
  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;  
  
And his eyes have all the seeing of a demon that is dreaming,  
  
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;  
  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
  
Shall be lifted- nevermore!~  
  
I do NOT own the parts in ~'s. That's all Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven". Brilliant man. he would have been more brilliant if he had ONLY STOPPED THE DRUGS! K. Thanks for reading this. No one can live up to that poem, but I though someone should give it a try. ^_^ K. Please review and yell at me. you know, for ruining a perfectly good piece of work. Oh, and if you have ANY idea of how to make the stupid thing bold and italicized, PLEASE let me know. I tried and tried and tried. I even did html and the stupid thing didn't work. All right, thanks again. And flame me- if you can't do that, then praise me, but reviews are much needed as I am lonely and neglected. The muses are shrinking from lack of attention.*sigh* Thanks.  
  
Ianera 


End file.
